The world believes in pomp and outward show;
Most things are done from business point of view;
All things are sold and purchased for some dough;
Human misdeeds have gone beyond review.
For everything, there is a strategy;
A lot is spent on merchandise-display;
A lot of things are done technically,
Involving waste of time, labor some way.
Enthralled are men by external appeal;
None cares about the future of his soul;
They want their bodies to mostly reveal;
Their ambition is just an earthly goal.
When will man come out of all this turmoil,
And trust in God much more than his own toil?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem